


holding it all together just to let it go

by peacefulboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hopeful Ending, post 4.15 promo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefulboo/pseuds/peacefulboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity has gotten very good at compartmentalizing. That hasn't changed in the wake of Damien Darhk's revelation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding it all together just to let it go

“You don’t have to do this now,” Curtis says, his voice low and his face neutral. 

“I know,” Felicity replies. “I know you think that, but I do. I need to.” She fights to keep her voice steady and even and then looks over to Caitlin. 

They have called the doctor in to look over the schematics and to implant the device once it has met with her approval. Which it has. Even if the ethics of trying it on a human first is hinky at best, Dr. Snow has long since given up on trying to maintain proper ethics when it comes to medical experimentation on vigilantes.

“The design is brilliant, Curtis. It looks like it has good shot of giving back full function, and an even better shot of giving back sensation and other limited function. I would prefer to take the time and do some other work with animal subjects first, but I assume that’s not an option you’re taking, Felicity.” 

“No. The sooner the better,” Felicity confirms. 

She’s adjusted to life in a wheelchair fairly well ‘cause she’s an adaptable girl -- life hasn’t let her be anything else. But the fact is that her life is in more danger when she can’t run away. And now that she’s no longer sleeping next to the city’s protector, she needs to gain back every advantage she can. 

Damien Darhk may be dead but they all know better than to believe this respite will last long. 

“It’s going to hurt,” Caitlin tells her frankly. “A lot. The process of regrowing the severed nerves and reawakening the deadened ones will likely take a few weeks, maybe months. You’ll probably be in pain the majority of that time. We’ll have you sedated and on a pain management regimen which should help, but we won’t be able to take it all away. There’s a chance, a small chance, that the pain will be long term, or even permanent.”

“Curtis told me about that. I know. And under normal circumstance I’d be all for caution and waiting for proper trials and not being the guinea pig here, but you know the life we lead, Caitlin. I need to be able to use my legs.” She sounds tired and desperate even to her own ears. 

Her mother squeezes her hand, tears running down her face, but Donna, uncharacteristically, doesn’t say a word. 

***

Felicity wakes up sweaty and nauseated. The pain is bad. Really, really bad. She remembers how they’d warned her it likely would be horrible, but she never expected it to be this excruciating. Which is silly, she thinks, when she’s able to come up from semi-consciousness long enough to actually be able to think. The way her life’s been going the last 4 months, she should have expected the repair to be hellish. 

***

 _”Your_ son _?” Felicity whispers as her whole body freezes. There’s a part of her brain that’s screaming that Damien fucking Darhk is standing right there and freezing is not an option, but it takes longer than she’d like for those sane thoughts to take over. She swallows down the bile that’s rising up her throat and shakes her head firmly. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll get him back.”_

_Turns out she doesn’t need to worry about Darhk right now after all. The exchange between her and Oliver takes less than 10 seconds, but when she turns to glare at Darhk and demand he give the boy back, he’s already vanished._

_Oliver comes toward her, his hand reaching out to touch her, though she’s not sure if his intention is to touch her shoulder or her face. She flinches either way and Oliver’s hand stills in the air, his eyes wide and more than a little panicked._

_“I’m so so--”_

_“No. Stop. No. We need to regroup with everyone and then we need to go get your_ son _back from Darhk.”_

_She doesn’t give him a chance to reply as she backs her chair up so she can turn toward the car._

 

***

She’s shivering this time when she regains consciousness and it takes her a few moments to realize that it’s because she’s lying on her belly with several cold packs gently placed on her back. She must make a noise because Caitlin is suddenly in her line of sight and reassuring her that she’s doing well. She’s had a fever for much of the last day and a half and there has been some unexpected swelling at two of her surgical sites that they were going to keep an eye on but her vitals are coming back into normal range and they expect her to clear this hurdle. 

When Caitlin moves away, Donna takes her place, kisses her cheek gently -- much more gently than normal -- and cradles Felicity’s hand in her own. 

“Mom,” Felicity whimpers before she can help it. The pain is overwhelming and she wishes there was something in her stomach to throw up. She can feel the tears sliding down her face and making their way toward the ear that’s pressed against the mattress but when she tries to move to wipe them away her hands don’t respond. “Mom,” she says again, this time the panic is evident in her voice, “My arm won’t...why won’t my arm? I can’t move my hand.”

“Oh my babygirl. You’re okay. Shhh. I’m gonna call for Caitlin,” Donna whispers as she wipes the tears from Felicity’s cheek before straightening and heading to the door, calling out for Caitlin. 

Caitlin’s back in moments and she runs Felicity through a series of tests. There’s sensation in her arms and hands but Felicity can’t get them to move. Caitlin is almost positive it’s just a part of the healing process being complicated by the pain medication they’re using to shepherd Felicity through the worst of the discomfort. 

They try a different meds and Felicity regains the use of her arms and hands, but she still hasn’t been able to move her legs. Sometimes she’ll feel pain shooting down her back to her thigh, or feel her knee twitch, but it’s been four days and so far, all she’s gotten is a lot of pain and an overwhelming sense of dread. 

So she sleeps. And dreams. 

***

_They get William back so easily, it’s clear Darhk never intended to keep him. Unfortunately, he isn’t so kind with Samantha. One of his Ghosts shoots her in the head, execution style, in front of her son and everyone else. And then he vanishes._

_Darhk only says, “I’ll give you a few days to let you and your son get acquainted, Mr. Queen,” before he, too, disappears into the night._

_Felicity realizes a few moments later, that Oliver is in his Arrow uniform. So Darhk knows, then._

_***_

_William is distraught and Oliver, for all of his visits to the Clayton’s over this past winter, is no comfort to the boy. He sobs and fights and rails at the world until, exhausted, he falls asleep curled up on the couch, tear tracks drying on his cheeks and his breaths still coming in shuddering gasps and sniffs._

_Oliver looks destroyed as he sits on the coffee table, not taking his eyes off his son. As numb and angry and shell shocked as Felicity may be about Oliver keeping something this fucking huge from her, she can’t help but hurt for him, so she wheels herself over to him, and reaches out to take his hands into her own, rubbing them gently._

_Neither of them say anything. There’s nothing to say really, not in this moment._

_They stay that way, her eyes on Oliver and Oliver’s eyes on William, until Oliver takes in a shuddering breath and pulls her hands to his lips._

_Felicity flinches at the action, surprising them both. Oliver drops her hands and she draws them back into her lap as she shakes her head in confusion at her own reaction. He’s looking toward her now and whatever he sees on her face must scare the shit out of him, because his eyes go wide and he opens his hands in front of him as if to show her he’s not going to hurt her._

_“Felicity,” he whispers and Felicity shakes her head harder to cut him off._

_“No Oliver. Not right now. Focus on William. Get your son through this. Get_ yourself _through this,” she tells him quietly through gritted teeth._

_She knows it’s hurting him but if she lets him talk right now, that’s it. Game over. She’ll have to leave the room and go to her mom’s and not look back. She needs time and space and the situation doesn’t really allow for either of those things in the moment._

_Because Felicity knows what he’s going to say. She knows he’ll have his reasons and they’ll be reasonable, or not, but if he tells her now, all the anger and sadness and disappointment will come welling up and Felicity is pretty damn sure that what will come spilling out of her will be mean and scathing and hurtful and a woman just died trying to save her son and now’s just not the time. It’s not the time or the place and she needs for Oliver to understand that._

_“I...” Oliver starts but stops as she shakes her head again._

_“I’m gonna go call Barry and see if he can bring some of William’s things and maybe see if he can find any of her papers. Determine who needs to be notified, if she has funeral wishes...all of those things. Maybe we can have Thea get the camp cot down from the attic for you. Or maybe I should take the couch and you should move him up to the bed,” she suggests._

_“I don’t understand, Felicity. Why?” He looks so lost now but it’s starting to be tinged with frustration and that’s when she knows she needs to put some distance between them._

_“It’s only 2pm. We’ll worry about sleeping arrangements later,” she tells him with a small, placating smile as she wheels herself over toward the kitchen to make the call to Barry._

_The rest of the day speeds by. William wakes after an hour or so and it’s like all the energy and fight has been sapped out of him. He does seem to be more willing to let Oliver sit with him now. Felicity is fixing sandwiches in the kitchen when she hears them start to talk._

_“Why did he do that to her? She didn’t do anything wrong,” William asks as he curls into Oliver’s side._

_“Oh buddy,” Oliver exhales as he pulls the kid into his arms. “I know she didn’t.”_

_There’s nothing else to say, really. Or there are plenty of things to say but none of them have the words to say them. How do explain to a child that his mother was killed because his dad was fighting an evil man on two fronts. That he and his mother were just pawns in a game that half the players didn’t know they were playing._

_“She didn’t do anything wrong,” William repeats and Oliver just pulls him tighter into his side and does his best to soothe him._

_Felicity is setting the sandwiches and drinks on the table when her phone beeps. Diggle and Laurel have found something they need her to check out and Felicity can only feel relief that she can do something more productive than hover and try not to let her heart get more broken._

_“I’m heading to hq,” she whispers to Oliver as she pulls her hoodie off the back of the couch._

_“Do you need me?” he asks, sitting up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as if suddenly aware that they’re all still in danger._

_“No. We’ve got it. Lance is downstairs and he’ll drive me over,” she says quietly as she shrugs into her hoodie. She made it all the way to the door before he stops her._

_“Felicity,” he says, voice low._

_She stops in front of the door but doesn’t turn toward him._

_He’s made his way to her and is crouching in front of her before she can blink. His look is so nakedly pained that she has to tighten her grip on the wheels to keep from reaching out to comfort him._

_He opens his mouth and then closes it and Felicity tears her eyes away from his and looks toward the door. He takes a deep breath and then settles on, “I don’t know what to do.”_

_“Oh Oliver. You do. My mom told me you’d make a good daddy and you will.” She smiles up at him, a tear making its way down her cheek before she continues, “You are. Just be there for him. Just love him. Don’t leave him,” she says with a shrug._

_“That’s not...” he trails off._

_“It’s all that matters right now, Oliver.” She nods to cut off the conversation._

_He holds the door open for her and tells her, “Be careful.”_

_“You, too,” she replies and then wheels herself to the elevator._

***

It takes a full week of pain and nightmares and a lot of regret, but eventually she is able to wiggle her toes. Donna shrieks when she sees it and Felicity can’t help but smile, though it’s tired and wary. Her mother’s enthusiasm is welcome, though, and helps her keep this small accomplishment in perspective. 

Two months ago she was living her life sure that she would never move anything below her hips again. Or that if she did, it would be years in the future when technology had advanced enough to give her that gift. 

Now she’s regained most of the sensation in both her legs, though the right one seemed to have more areas without sensation than the left. Caitlin assures her this is normal, and tells her that so much progress in such a short time is nothing short of amazing. It is the awe in her friend’s voice more than anything else that reassures Felicity that she made the right choice. Caitlin has seen more medical marvels than Felicity’s dreamed of over the last two years, and if she believes her healing is worthy of awe, then Felicity is inclined to believe her. 

Donna’s shriek of joy has brought Diggle and Caitlin running into the room, though they stop short at the brilliant smile on Donna’s face. 

“She moved her toes!” Donna says with a little giggle of delight. “She just moved her toes!” she repeats, her eyes going teary as she turns back to Felicity. 

Caitlin moves to the foot of the bed and nods for Felicity to try again. 

She curls her toes slowly and then lets them straighten out again, then looks up at Diggle with a smile as if to say _look what I just did._

“That’s somethin’,” Diggle tells her, squeezing her shoulder. 

“Yeah. It is,” Felicity agrees. 

Caitlin runs more tests, and documents her findings in Felicity’s chart and tells her she’ll be back the next day. 

“I’m so happy for you, Felicity,” she says, squeezing her foot and winking and then leaving the room. 

“I’m gonna go call Quentin,” Donna says, a hint of a question in her voice, as if asking permission. 

“Tell him hi for me, yeah?” Felicity tells her mom in a tone that she hopes is encouraging. 

Donna leaves and Diggle takes up her spot in the arm chair next to the bed Felicity’s been lying in for much of the past week. 

They sit in silence for a while, enjoying being in the others’ presence with no urgent crisis breathing down their necks for once. She’s always appreciated Digg’s calm, quiet demeanor and his talent for knowing when to say something and when not to. 

But they both know that he’s here for more than one reason. 

“How’s the search going?” Felicity asks. 

“We think we’ve rounded up most of the Ghosts between us and ARGUS. Damien seems to be truly dead, and Malcolm and his associates are all in custody. For now,” he tells her with a shrug. 

“I guess that’s all we can ask for,” she replies with a smile. She’s glad for everyone that this chapter in Starling City’s history is coming to a close. The people, like their heroes, need a break. 

She wants to ask about him. About both of them. She’s never been good at ignoring elephants in the room, but every time she starts to open her mouth to ask, she just...doesn’t. 

But Diggle knows her well enough to know what she needs to hear and fills in the gaps for her. 

“William seems to be settling in better. Thea bought him a dog, a German Shepherd, it’s a few years old and fully trained. It seems to be helping. He likes to tell people that the dog is his bodyguard,” he says with a smile, “We think he’s finally starting to feel safe again.”

“Good,” she says with a sharp nod. She may not know the kid very well, but she knows that kids need to feel safe in order to flourish. And she wants that for him. 

“Yeah,” Diggle agrees softly. “He tried to name him Flash, but Oliver used his veto. Said it’d be too confusing. They settled on Bear.”

Felicity laughs, then replies, “Bear’s a good name. And since that’s what Joe and Iris call Barry...”

“Yeah,” Diggle agrees chuckling. 

Felicity fiddles with the top sheet, running her thumb nail along the seam in a rhythmic pattern and hopes he doesn’t make her ask. 

“He wants to see you,” Diggle says finally, his voice low and rough. His shoulders slump a little and he lets out a deep sigh. Felicity can see the toll these last few months have taken on him. 

“William?” Felicity asks, perhaps being a bit intentionally obtuse. 

Diggle fixes her with a hard stare that tells her he doesn’t have the energy to play games. 

“Oliver,” she sighs out and he nods. 

“And I think you should,” he says, his voice gentler than his stare had been a moment ago. 

“Probably,” she agrees. 

And it’s not that she doesn’t want to see Oliver. She misses him so fucking much that sometimes it gets so overwhelming that she feels like she can’t breathe. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? She can’t need him or want him that much and she hasn’t had enough time away to recalibrate her feelings for him. 

She loves him. Will probably always love him. But she can’t be with him until she’s figured out a way to keep her heart intact the next time he pulls something like this again. 

Because he will. It’s who he is and she knows he’ll make promises and that he’ll work hard to keep them. She knows he’ll promise to never lie to her, that he’ll never keep anything significant from her again and he’ll mean it. He will. He’ll mean it with everything inside of him. 

And then something else will happen and circumstances will conspire to put him in a headspace where he believes with everything in his being that the only way to protect someone he loves will be to lie to her and keep secrets her. And when that happens again, she has to be able to keep her heart from shattering. 

If she chooses to marry him, she will be choosing to marry the man he is and that’s very likely to be someone who will lie to protect her. Or lie to protect his child. She will have to find a way to both accept his flaws and demand he do better. Demand he protect her heart as fiercely as he’s protected her body. 

“I know he hurt you. He betrayed you. He made you a promise and didn’t keep it and that’s a hard thing to accept. And it’s okay if you don’t ever accept it, Felicity. No one, least of all Oliver, will blame you,” John tells her. “But I think it might be good for both of you to see each other.”

Felicity looks at Diggle her eyebrows furrowed in question. 

“You sometimes call for him in your sleep. It seems to mostly happen when you’re in the most pain. I don’t know if it’s nightmares or just wanting him, but it takes you longer to settle, like you’re waiting for him to come,” he tells her, his head tilted slightly and his eyes sad. 

“Oh,” she whispers her eyes cast down to her lap. She hastily wipes a tear from her cheek and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I didn’t realize I was saying anything.”

She tries really hard to not be embarrassed about this. Oliver has been her lover and main source of comfort for almost a year, and he’s been her _something_ for much longer. It shouldn’t surprise her that she still wants him when she’s in pain and out of it. It doesn’t surprise her, really. It’s just frustrating. She thought she’d been doing a better job of hiding how damn much she misses him. 

“I figured you didn’t. It makes sense, though. You love him,” Diggle shrugs. 

“I do,” she replies. There’s never any sense in denying that. 

“I just think that you’d both benefit from seeing each other in person. And he’s going a bit crazy knowing that you’re going through this process without him. When he found out how much pain you were in...It’s been awhile since I’ve seen that look on his face.”

She’s fairly sure that Diggle isn’t telling her this to manipulate her into agreeing to see Oliver. Diggle is just doing his best to lay all the cards on the table, and she appreciates that. 

“I’ll think about it, John. I’ll let you know?” she asks more than tells him. 

“Take your time,” Diggle replies.

And they fall back into silence. 

***  
_The week flies by and soon the funeral service is over and they’ve moved much of William’s stuff into the loft._

_And Felicity has slowly moved much of her stuff over to the first floor, wheelchair accessible, apartment her mother has been renting._

_Oliver has taken to sleeping on the floor next to William’s bed, terrified that Darhk or his Ghosts will come to snatch the boy away in the night. All of his energy has, rightly, been focused on William and Darhk, but Felicity can’t do this anymore. She can’t live here with him right now, not now that the initial shock of Samantha’s death has started to fade and William has started to come out of his fog a little._

_He just lost a mother and if Felicity is going to leave, she needs to do it now, before the kid gets attached._

_She has no idea if she’s leaving for now or leaving for good - and damn does the thought of leaving for good leave her gutted - but this being a permanent end to her relationship with Oliver is a distinct possibility and it’s not fair to keep up this charade if that’s all it’s ever going to be._

_So she waits for him to come down stairs after making sure William has settled for the night, and then blurts out, “I can’t do this.”_

_Oliver stiffens where he’s standing on the last stair._

_“Felicity,” he says and walks toward her._

_She shakes her head violently and holds her hands up._

_“You lied to me, Oliver,” she says, and honestly she feels like that’s all she needs to say. He had promised, no more lies. They would make decisions together. And all of Samantha’s demands and Oliver’s fears don’t justify asking her to marry him when she didn’t even know she’d be someone’s mom. Step-mother, sure, but still._

_“I did,” he agrees and the look of anguish on his face is almost enough to crumble the walls she’s been building up around her heart for the past week. “I had to.”_

_“No, Oliver. You didn’t. You chose to, and I get it. He’s your son and you loved him the second you knew he existed. But this was a choice you made. Over and over and over.”_

_“I’m so sorry,” he tells her and she can hear how sorry he is._

_“I know you are, but I can’t reconcile any of this. I can’t make sense of it when I’m here with you both and he’s this wonderful kid who just lost his mom and I think I’m falling in love with him already and I don’t know how to look at you and see someone I can trust again...” she trails off and shrugs and wheels herself over to the door before she starts to really cry._

_“Where are you going?” Oliver asks._

_“My mom’s. Captain Lance is staying there most nights, so we’ll be covered. When he’s not Laurel or Thea or Diggle will be there with us,” she tells him, still facing the door. They had made the arrangements quietly._

_No one was taking sides, but everyone had agreed that Felicity and Donna would be the most physically vulnerable other than William. And the last thing any of them needed was for Oliver to be worrying over the safety of both Felicity and William._

_She’s startled when she feels his hand on her shoulder but she still doesn’t turn toward him._

_“Felicity,” he says, his voice full of tears, “Please don’t go.”_

_And that makes her look up at him. She’s never seen him so terrified._

_“Oh Oliver. I need to,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady and reassuring. “I need some space to breathe and to think and William needs his dad. And you are such a good dad.”_

_Oliver lets out a breath that’s half laugh and half sob. It’s tinged with doubt and fear and just a little bit of panic. “God I love you, Felicity Smoak. And I’m so very sorry.”_

_“I love you, too, Oliver Queen,” she tells him. She grabs his hand and presses a hard, almost harsh kiss against his knuckles and then makes her way out the door._

***

She gives herself another week before agreeing to see him. 

 

Felicity can feel the shift in the air the second he walks through the sliding glass door. Her mother stiffens a little and does nothing to hide how she’s glaring toward him. Lance must have let him in.

“Mom,” Felicity says, “Can you give us a minute?”

Donna reluctantly nods and then presses a kiss to Felicity’s hair. “I’ll be just inside.”

Felicity is sitting outside in the tiny yard at the back of her mom’s apartment. It’s sunny and warm today, a light breeze playing with the edges of her hair. She likes it out here. It’s a quiet neighborhood and all she can hear are the birds chirping and her mom has several large planters full of spring flowers. She’s spent much of her days out here since she’s been able to leave the bed with only minimal pain. 

“Oliver,” she says, looking up at him at last. She gestures to the chair a few feet away from her, indicating that he should sit. 

He sits quickly, rubbing his hands together with nerves and not taking his eyes off her. The way he scans her body from head to toe as if cataloguing all the changes and similarities makes her inhale sharply, but she gives him a moment, understanding his need to reassure himself that she’s here and relatively fine. 

The silence extends between them and while it’s heavy with tension, it’s not completely uncomfortable. Felicity will admit that it’s nice to just _be_ with him. It’s been so long since they’ve shared the same space that she’d forgotten just how comforting being near him could be. 

“Thank you,” he says, breaking the silence. 

“You’re welcome,” she replies, a little too quickly, mostly out of habit and the need for something to say. 

He smiles gently at her and continues, “For letting me come see you, I mean.”

She nods and allows her face to soften some, even if she doesn’t smile back at him. 

“They say you’re doing well?” he asks. He keeps clenching his hands and she wonders if he’s doing it so he doesn’t accidentally touch her, or if he’s really as nervous as he sounds. 

“I am. Look,” she says, allowing a quiet excitement to color her words. She waggles her feet from side to side and gives him a little shrug. It’s not walking but it’s still really freaking cool. She’s been working with a physical therapist every day for the last week. She can actually fully move both her legs now, but the muscles have atrophied and it saps her of much of her energy to do more than wiggle her feet. Energy she needs for this conversation. 

Oliver’s face lights up and he gives her a big, tear filled smile. “That’s amazing, Felicity.”

Felicity smiles back at him and replies, “Yeah. It really is.”

“Diggle said it’s been hard. That you’ve been in a lot of pain,” Oliver says, sobering a little. 

Felicity nods and admits, “The pain is pretty much constant. I’ve been pretty hard to be around, I think.” 

Oliver sucks in a breath at that. Maybe Diggle hadn’t told him everything. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. 

“I know. But you didn’t do this to me, Oliver,” she reminds him and it’s more of a reprimand than a reassurance. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you were hurting. When you _are_ hurting,” he amends. 

There have been nights that Felicity has wanted nothing more than to have Oliver’s weight curled around her back, his arms around her, sure that his body heat would feel amazing surrounding her. Days when she’s been convinced that his warm hands could work miracles when her back and legs are aching or in straight up agony. She’s resented, at times, that she’s denied herself that comfort and that he put her in a position to need to protect her heart over bringing comfort to her body. 

“I miss you,” is what she says instead. 

And there it is. 

Over the last week, Felicity has come to the conclusion that missing him has eclipsed her anger and hurt. That she’s in love with this man and that for better or worse was still something she wanted with him. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” he sighs and there’s an exhaustion in his voice that makes her want to crawl into his arms. But they’re not there yet. 

“How’s William?” she asks. 

“He’s doing okay,” Oliver replies the corners of his mouth quirking up. 

“Yeah? I heard you guys got a dog,” Felicity says, trying to encourage Oliver to talk a bit more. 

“Bear,” Oliver nods, “The therapist suggested that I stop sleeping in his room every night so he can get used to a little more separation, but he’d started waking up with these awful nightmares and Thea figured it’d be good for him. Help him feel safer.” He shrugs again. 

“He’s seeing a therapist?” Felicity said in surprise. 

“We both are,” Oliver admits. 

“Wow,” she breathes out completely taken aback. “How?” she asks, trying to work her mind around the logistics of Oliver talking to a therapist without revealing a significant portion of what he would need to address for the therapy to work. 

“Lyla suggested her. Dr. Cruz. She’s ARGUS and was a big part of getting Lyla in charge over there,” he tells her, his eyes searching her face for a reaction. 

“And you’re actually talking to her? Like, really talking to her?” she asks, still thrown. 

“She doesn’t know my life story but she insists she doesn’t need to. We’ve mostly been focused on William but we talk about...other things,” he seems uncomfortable and she figures that she might be a part of “other things.”

“Has she helped?” Felicity asks. 

“Some,” he says, ducking his head. “She seems to be helping William a lot, at least. And that helps.”

“I’m glad,” she tells him, honestly. 

Of all the scenarios she’s run through over the last two months, Oliver in therapy never even made it onto her radar. 

“Me, too. I needed help,” he admits. She stays silent when he seems to be searching for more words. “When Samantha told me what my mother had done, and then asked me to keep William a secret, I panicked. I was given this gift that I don’t even realize I had wanted and when she told me I could only be in his life if I told no one, when I thought about how much danger he could be in if others knew, if Darhk knew, I made a choice.”

He pauses and Felicity looks out over the small garden. She chooses to focus on a bee that’s hovering over the pansies, unable to look at him as he tells her just what he’d been thinking. 

“I thought the choice was to keep him a secret from everyone, or tell the whole world. I didn’t realize until too late that there were other opitons.”

“I would never have told anyone, Oliver,” she says and she hates how small her voice sounds. 

“I know, Felicity. I do know that. I knew that then, even,” he admits. 

“Then why? I can see why, at first, you might keep this from me, but you had so much time...” she allows the hurt and confusion to saturate her voice as she trails off. “You had to know I’d protect him.”

“Of course,” he admits, “Of course I knew that. I convinced myself that once I committed to not telling anyone, I had to stick with that.” He shrugs. 

“But Barry knew. And Thea. And, god, Malcolm of all people knew!” Felicity can feel the anger and bewilderment starting to take over again and she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. 

“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “They did. I didn’t tell Thea or Malcolm and they both still found out and I closed my eyes to the danger and now Samantha is dead. My son watched his mother die and I lost you and I don’t know how to ever be okay with my responsibility in that.”

“Oliver,” she sighs his name, suddenly so heartbroken for him. 

He takes in a deep breath and looks back up into her eyes and she is almost bowled over by the intensity in them. 

“Can you ever forgive me, Felicity?” he asks. 

“I already have,” she tells him honestly. Cause it’s true. She’s forgiven him. 

“Oh,” he says, so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“I forgive you Oliver, I do,” she pauses. This next part is going to hurt. She continues anyway, “but I still need some time. And I think you and William still need some time. So I’m gonna stay here. Probably for the rest of my recovery.”

Oliver closes his eyes and breathes in sharply through his nose. “Okay,” he says, and then again, “Okay.”

“I love you so much, Oliver Queen. Whatever is going through your head right now, you need to know that.” She reaches out her hand toward him and her whole body feels relieved when he tentatively takes her hand in his. He’s so warm. 

“Why?” he asks. And she knows that this time he isn’t asking her why she loves him, but why she needs more time. 

“William. We need to get to know each other. He’s been through so much that when I move back into our home, I need to be sure it’s forever. If I ever put your ring back on, I need to be sure I can be his parent and that I won’t abandon him. I can’t do that to a kid.”

“Okay,” Oliver says nodding, more in understanding than in agreement. 

“And,” she continues, looking him directly in the eyes, “I still need to work through my own anger and frustration that you lied to me, and asked me to marry you, and didn’t tell me you had a son.”

Oliver squeezes her hand, telling her he understands and then stands. 

“My instinct is to tell you it will never happen again,” he admits. 

“I’m going to need you to hold off on saying that. You may believe it, but I can’t. Not now.”

“That’s fair,” he agrees, then clears his throat. “I should go.”

“Tell William hi for me?” she asks. 

“I will.” 

“And Oliver?”

“Yeah?” he asks, looking at her, curious. 

“Can you bring your dog next time?” she asks, hopeful. 

“Sure,” he says, a real smile lighting up his face. “When will that be?” 

“Tomorrow?” she asks. 

“Tomorrow,” he agrees. 

He bends down and presses a long kiss against her forehead and she closes her eyes and breathes him in. 

She stays out on the porch long after he’s gone. It’s a few hours later when she dials Lyla’s number and leaves a message asking if there are any other therapists in Lyla’s employ that she might be able to see.

**Author's Note:**

> I know very little about pain management or neurobiology/neuroscience, etc. Thank you for being gracious about any errors I've made there, or in other areas. I wouldn't be surprised if I spelled Darhk six different ways before I got used to typing it correctly.
> 
> This follows in the footsteps of some brilliant fics that have touched on or handled the William storyline in myriad ways and you should probably go read those too, if you haven't already. 
> 
> Sometimes angst can be hella cathartic. I'm hope that's the case here. Thanks for reading!


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